


No Experience Necessary

by silvercobwebs



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Humor, M/M, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-29
Updated: 2013-06-29
Packaged: 2017-12-16 14:36:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/863124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvercobwebs/pseuds/silvercobwebs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Wade Wilson is a Responsible Adult. Kinda.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Experience Necessary

“Oh my God, Wade, you can’t use any of this!’ Peter screeches (yes, friendly readers, **screeches** , Mr. Wilson will happily attest under any court of law) from an inch too close to Wade’s ear. “What on Earth were you thinking?”

“Aw, c’mon, Pete, are you really going to feed me the ole ‘Were you even thinking at all?’ line already?’ Wade flutters his non-existent eyelashes as he shoves the other man away from his protesting eardrum, and away from the screen before them. “Next thing you know we’re gonna be arguing about that stinky Spider-girl you’ve been spending all your time with-”

“Spider- _Woman_ , and for the last time, Wade, she’s not smelly, she releases _pheromones_ and Sweet Christmas you’ve got me babbling about thing that aren’t even remotely related to what we’re talking about already!”

“Don’t blame me for your weird segways, kiddo.”

Peter pinches the bridge of his nose, remembering Aunt May do the same thing when he asked sixteen too many impossible questions when he was six, and suddenly feels the need to sit down.

He sits. Breathes. Okay, good.

Wade is staring at him. “What?”

“You okay, Pete?” Wade has swivelled around from his usual spot on the couch with the maximum amount of awkwardness. “Looks like you’re about to pop a vein or something, and believe me, that’s not how you want to go. I mean, it’s kinda quick, I’ll admit, but your body gets all twitchy, and then you end up looking like a broken Ken doll at the funeral and-”

“Not. Helping.”

Hands raised in a peaceful gesture, Wade inclines his head slightly. “You seriously thought I was helpful before?”

Peter smiles, and smacks him soundly with the nearest cushion. “This is an actual thing you actually have to take seriously, you know.”

Wade looks like he’s just bitten into a lemon filled with angry wasps.

Grabbing the laptop from Wade’s knees, Peter scrolls through the document once again, shaking his head.

“Hey, the nice lady at the unemployment office told me to write down my job experience and skills!” Wade huffs indignantly. “I’ve never written a stupid resume before – which I might add, was all your idea in the first place… ‘You’ve got to go straight, Deadpool, you need to get a job that doesn’t involve casual dismemberment’,” he poorly mimics. “Beside - she had an enamel name tag, Spidey. _Enamel_. I had to do what she said.”

“I never realised you’d take it this literally,’ Peter sighs. “I thought you’d just get a job at…at a bar or something, I don’t know!” He scrolls down, then back up again and cocks his head. “Sumo wrestler? Seriously?”

“I just don’t have the figure for it recently.” Wade pats his belly. “But if you’re asking, sweetums, I’ll sacrifice my girlish figure if it keeps us from the magical trash-eating life of the hobo gentleman, wandering from street to street like a majestic piranha. With legs of course. And out of the water with one of those little bindles. Don’t you just love that word? Bindle.Those people are the backbone of this great country you know.” He sniffs, wiping an imaginary tear.

Peter has run out of cushions to throw, and the only other nearest object to hand is the laptop, and he’d rather throw himself out the window than lose his precious Macbook. Instead, he continues reading, his brow furrowed.

“Hang on a minute.” He looks from the screen, to Wade, then back again. “Assassin, yes (although you added too many ‘asses’ there; X-Man? Yeah, that’s debatable at best… Entrepreneur? Hmm…”

“I had an Inc. and a secretary and everything. Just ask Gail!”

“Stand in for the **Green Goblin**? You little shit! How could you?!” the heat in Peter’s glare is enough to strip paint, and Wade scoots back in his seat just a fraction of an inch. Not that he’s mildly terrified or anything, he just needs his personal space. Really.

“Language! It was only for a day, and I didn’t actually hurt anyone, just caused a little mindless mayhem.”

“We’re never mentioning this ever again. Ever.”

“Okay okay” Wade hastily agrees. “Ex-nay on the Oblin Gay. Heh. Gay. Oh hey – I forgot to add Latin to languages spoken – you think there’s a market for that, or is it just one of those lame things only Ren Faire geeks use?”

“Hah!” Peter crows, cheerfully ignoring him. “Now _this_ one I know you put in there in just to screw with me. Certificate in Education and two years support work in a local junior school? Like you’d….” he trails off as he sees the expression on Wade’s face.

Wade coughs and scratches the back of his neck. “Nah, no fooling,” he shrugs. “I told you – they’re all true. I was gonna teach…. somethin’, history? Gym? I dunno, can’t really remember that much from before,” he gestures to himself. “Well, before all this, y’know – wacky cancerous background, Samba dancing brain cells, and bloodshed backstory…” he shrugs again. “Try not to laugh too loud, Spidey, because I’ve found that nine out of ten dudes will have to extract a katana from their nostril after, and I really don’t want to have to think about cleaning stuff after all my minutes of backbreaking typing.”

But Peter isn’t laughing.

He’s quiet, and he’s **looking** at Wade.

He taps the Save icon on the document and carefully closes the laptop and places it on the coffee table in font of him.

“I think,” Peter begins with a sickeningly sincere smile. “that you would have been a _great_ teacher.”

Well now, what the hell can he say to that? Sure, there’s a plethora of naughty schoolboy gags Wade could use, maybe something about spanking, or polishing his apples, but all that his mouth does is make a soft ‘o’ whilst Peter insists on looking at him like that, all doe-eyed and understanding. It’s enough to make a man puke, or fall head over heels, maybe both.

‘Well, I uh – thanks?” Wade offers hesitantly in response. “I probably would’ve got detention or something anyway,” he babbles, “putting frogs in the girls toilets, inappropriate use of the art mannequin-” He’s silenced as Peter places a hand over his thigh and brushes his lips over his own.

“You would have been a great teacher,” Peter confidently repeats. “And maybe now…Well I’m not so sure if you could go back to that again, not with…” He strokes a long finger over Wade’s shoulder, glad that he’s coaxed him back into the habit of not wearing his costume (Uniform! He hears Wade correct inside his head) so often. “I honestly don’t know about that. But I think you are full of potential – and not just for giving poor fat kids swirlies in the boys bathroom, or annoying your friendly neighbourhood Me – but for good stuff too, I think.”

“Wow, that’s… that’s real nice of you to say so, Pete. Say - you think I could maybe one day work with you and all the cool sciency shit?”

“Oh dear God _no_.” Peter smiles sweetly. “Not in a million years. Now let’s print this out and you can finally get all of those terrible naughty schoolboy lines you’ve been storing in your head ever since I mentioned any of this.”

“None of your cheek young man or I’m keeping you in after the bell, and then you can personally polish my apple, and…” Wade sighs. “You know what? Barely legal lines don’t actually do it for me.”

“Me either, so how about we start acting a little more adult?” Peter says, sliding onto Wade’s lap with a grin.

Wade smirks as his arms wrap around his boyfriend’s waist. “Well in that case, I am the very pinnacle of Grown Upness, and a guaranteed NC-17 rated adult.”

A finger walks its way down Wade’s chest. “I think that needs to be properly tested.”

“Didn’t you see I wrote it under the Special Skills part of my resume? It’s right under katana juggling and cunning linguist. Although I have to fess up – I did made up the Ph.D. in Kick-Ass-ology.”

Peter isn’t entirely sure how he’s managing to laugh into their kisses yet not end up a hysterical mess on the carpet, but somehow it seems that ‘giggly love-making’ is also under the list of Wade’s exceptionally special skills.

He really should have asked him about this a long time ago.

 

-end.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a silly wee fluffy response to a particularly heartbreaking fic by the aweome Tumblr user Deepship, so please feel free to blame her if you liked it. All the jobs mentioned are ones that Wade has had in canon. 
> 
> Kudos is loved if you did enjoy reading, and I always appreciate it when anyone takes the time to comment. c:


End file.
